The train left westwards on a Saturday sunrise    We rode along the linear scaffold  To a fertile sidetrack  Not yet been tamed  By urban architecture  Unknown in a rural village  Tresspassing silent roads  Deserted bu television natives  Rows of rusty tracktors left behind  To keep the sunset company  We strived the valley sides  Reached the bright blue castle  It appeared in defiant solitude  Spreading scraps of paint  Out on the October sky surface  From inside a giant panorama  Our conversation evolved  To women and witches and sex  We ate the saucy beaf  And dark rumanian red  Before nightfall dragged us into its coat  To watch to circular star belt  Wrapping us tightly together  In the pale flame of the parafin lamp  A blue rope lowered onto glowing necks  We entered the circle of branches spread out  Like countryside bohemians  Reeking of whiskey and wool  The knife cut from grey to red  A brotherhood of blood  Dripping down on the heather  And into the soil  We were mystics balancing  On the plunge of knowledge  Ready to fall in ecstasy  Of retire smart stupidity  After a one-night stand  With anima mundi